The Tau System
by I'mmaDeadMan
Summary: Long ago, at the height of the Orokin Empire, the Golden Lords attempted to colonize the far off Tau System through the efforts of their Sentient servants. The resulting war led to fall of their Empire, and now, thousands of years later, the Tau System is regarded as a myth. The dreams of the Orokin were shattered among the stars, and all that remains now... is a Remnant.


**This is the first chapter of a story I'd like to do once my other story is finished. Don't expect any real updates until the other is finished, but until then feel free to read it!**

The Void.

The Blinding Night. The Hellspace.

The place had many names, none of them particularly savory. To some, it was a place of reverence and worship – an afterlife filled with the souls of the dearly departed. To others, it was a treacherous but necessary obstacle, one that needed to be traversed in favor of expediency.

To a rare few it was a fundamental truth, a conduit of understanding that could thrust them to a higher state of being. To a select few, this was actually the case.

Long ago, the Orokin had sought to use the Void for their own benefits. They had crafted great towers that hung within the space, forged from tamed Technocyte and bound in great slabs of ceramite and gold. They had experimented on the place, and even found a way to harness its energies. The Orokin had tinkered, and eventually considered themselves its masters.

But the fickle whims of fate had made a mockery of the golden lords, and time had shown that the Void had no masters. It was wild, untamed. It did not grant wishes, it did not offer salvation, and it did not grant mercy.

But it did have children.

The ship hung in place above the rift, its sleek, arrowhead form silhouetted by the great writhing tendrils that coiled and wreathed from the Void.

For such a small ship, it carried a certain malice to it. There were few in the Origin system that had the capacity to detect it, and even fewer who would dare approach it.

A Tenno Orbiter. A marvel of engineering, crafted by the most ingenious star-smiths in the Origin system and sanctified within the most hallowed of Void berths. As it twisted gently in space, the light of the Void reflected off its dull golden hull.

If one were to look closely, they might swear they saw figures staring back at them from within the cold, faded-gold. Solemn, judgmental faces, eyes closed in thought and heads bowed as if in prayer. Yet they were transient - there one second and gone the next, leaving the viewer to wonder if they were hallucinating.

Its origins were Orokin, yet the ship itself had likely been constructed long after the fall of that ancient empire. The technology had been converted, integrated, and changed so thoroughly by their new Tenno masters that it barely resembled the old designs. Yet still the ship functioned exactly as intended. It was capable of swift traversal of the Origin System, both real and Void-space alike, and was nearly untraceable to even the most advanced scanners. It was the perfect vessel for ones such as the Tenno – those who were more akin to ghosts than corporeal creatures.

And like the ship, its master was equally lethal.

Within the vessel, a motionless figure knelt upon a raised dais. Wreathed in a dull, faded-gold, it sat unmoving, silent and still. Its form was barely visible in the dark cabin, lit only by the light of the stars and the otherworldly energies of the Void.

It did not move, even to draw breath, more akin to a statue than a living creature. Yet around it the air rippled like water, evidence of the barely restrained power that emanated from its body. A faint, delicate chiming could be heard as the energies danced about it, an almost musical quality to the notes that defied reason and sense, existing and yet not existing in equal capacity. The sound played at the back of one's conscious, ever-present yet nearly invisible, like a ghost hanging over your shoulder.

This creature, this wraith… was a Tenno.

The most feared being of all those that dwelled within the Origin System. Worse than a Grineer War-Master, worse than a Corpus High Overseer. Even the most brutal psychotics the system could produce would recoil at the cruelty displayed by the Tenno, their wanton disregard of life and the callous, almost careless way they felled those that stood before them.

There were whispers, even, that the Tenno were worse than the hordes of Technocyte monstrosities. Those twisted monsters could indeed inflict a horrific fate to any who encountered them, but they paled in comparison to what the Tenno offered. For while the Technocyte could steal your body and warp your mind – the Tenno, with their Void-touched Warframes, would rip away your soul.

The Tenno, for all its supposed brutality, knelt, unmoving and reticent, while its ship hung in space listlessly, awaiting its command.

It was waiting.

_Listening_.

Beside it, a diode began to flicker. A small ring of orange light began to dance up and down, filling the cabin with its radiance as the ship's scanners intercepted a transmission, decoding it effortlessly and broadcasting the message over the internal speakers.

_"Saypay! Saypay!" _An alien voice screamed. The language was garbled and the transmission choppy, but to the Tenno's trained senses it was not meaningless. The Tenno could detect fear in the voice. The speaker was frightened. Terrified, even. _"Pkiy iy Yakpait Jeeruay ot pke Toip-ykik Yappeta! Je ate yaujkp jipkit a-!"_

"Director." A voice spoke from the console, high and mechanical. It was feminine, yet at the same time distorted - not wholly human, yet not fully artificial either.

Beside the Tenno a display stand burst into life, bathing the cabin in a brilliant yellow light that danced off the Tenno's metallic ornamentation. The light took shape, forming itself into strange geometric patterns – a small cube, twisted to the side like a diamond, surrounded on all sides with small triangular spikes like the rays of a painted sun.

This was a Cephalon. An Artificial Intelligence, crafted from the mind of one that once lived but now was no more. Far more than a mere machine, far less than human, these Cephalons were a cruel paradox that, like most things of their design, held their roots in the Orokin Empire. Only the cruelty and paranoia of the Golden Lords would be capable of conceiving of such a fiendish form of intelligence as the Cephalons.

Much like the ship, though, this one was far from Orokin in origin. It was fresh and new, barely ten years old, crafted and created as a command-mind for the Corpus Mercantile War-fleet.

Created, and then taken by force.

It had served the Tenno for only four of those ten years, but serve it this Cephalon most certainly did.

The Tenno had more than proven itself worthy of its loyalty, after all.

The Cephalon flickered and twisted, as if taking stock of the kneeling Tenno, judging its mood by some unknown parameter. It blinked in confirmation as it found whatever it was searching for, and began to speak again.

"The transmission appears to be in Low Corpus, Director. Would you like me to translate?"

The Tenno did not move, but a sibilant, rumbling voice echoed through the cabin. "Yes."

It was neither male nor female, nor was it spoken with a mouth or a throat. No sound was truly produced, and yet the word was still uttered. It was as if it had been willed into being by the whims of the Tenno, reality warped so casually merely to simulate the act of speech.

Such was the terrible power held by these creatures - the ones the Orokin had called both their devils and their angels. The Cephalon did not question the Tenno further, and shortly thereafter the cabin was filled with a guttural male voice, raised high in panic.

_"Mayday! Mayday! This is Captain Weequay of the Void-Ship Caldera! We're caught within a gravitational phenomenon emanating from the rift! The Void, it's – it's caught us! I don't know how else to explain it. It's like the Void is erupting! Requesting immediate assistance from any vessels in the area! Please…"_

The transmission was interrupted by a burst of static, likely the Void thrashing at the poor beleaguered vessel. After a moment, the man resumed, more panicked than before.

_"Again, mayday! We need rescue! We have valuable cargo! You rescue us, it's yours! Or… Or credits! We'll give you lots of credits! On behalf of Ooron Conglomerate, I can offer-"_

The transmission cut off with a flicker of motion from the Cephalon. She turned her brilliant yellow gaze on the Tenno, the light from her projection reflecting off its gilded form.

"I have a lock on their coordinates, Director. Should I prepare the Void-drive?"

The Tenno finally moved, looking up to gaze out the window. The light of the Void played off its helmet, but was soon lost in the turns and folds that comprised it. Slowly, the Tenno stood, its form flexing and stretching with not a hint of wasted movement.

Almost in mockery of the human form, the Tenno bore the resemblance of a man. Black and ashen-white fabric wove together as if to simulate clothing, interspersed with lines of coruscating light, which burned a light cherry red.

It only looked human, though. There was nothing natural about this creature. No humanity, no warmth.

In truth, this was not a body. Bodies were born naturally, and existed to mingle and produce offspring. This form had no such purpose. Its muscles were composed of tightly packed Technocyte, twisted and molded into a perfect harmony of resilient and unyielding muscle. It had no capacity for care or tenderness – it was made only to kill.

This was no living body.

This was a Warframe.

Dull golden metal clung to its sides and shoulders, spiraling down and around its back and shoulders like the tentacles of some ancient eldritch deity. Dozens of tiny, brilliant points of ruby energy stood out upon its chest and shoulders, like gems embroidering a coat. The gold that was woven into its body was a far cry from the hue favored by the Orokin, instead faded to a dull fools-gold that glinted dully in the light of the void. Upon its chest was a angular construct, with a single glimmering ruby lodged in the center – the same cherry red as the energy that wreathed the Tenno's body.

As the Tenno moved to stand, its beard began to dance and sway. Rather than hair, several black tentacles dangled down from its face, ending in bright red tips that coiled and writhed about each other like snake-heads. The Tenno turned its head, the light of the void glinting off the metallic crown that rested upon its brow, sweeping up like the spears in a three-pronged display.

"Yes, Rylum." The Tenno finally said, its impossible voice emanating once again through the silent cabin. "Prep the ship, and wake Rhym. I want him keeping a close eye on the engines."

"Understood."

Around them the ship flared to life, the hum of its engines filling the cabin with a warm glow. Beneath the Tenno, separated only by a few bare inches of ghostly glass, the inner workings of the mighty Void-vessel began to churn and spin, coming to life as the aetheric energies of its bioorganic heart began to beat and thrum like a drum.

The Tenno turned away from the window, descending into the ship as a ramp lowered itself down. "Director?" Rylum called after it. She reappeared in a flash of light in the main hold, her dazzling form projecting out of a console on the wall. "Are you going to aid these Corpus?"

The Tenno did not so much as glance at her as it headed to the back of the ship. Tapping on a monitor there, it began to scroll through a database, glancing through the flowing, graceful text that comprised the Tenno language.

Nodding to itself, it selected a name from the list and held out its hands. The air shimmered with ethereal energy, and a moment later a weapon was cradled in the Tenno's hands.

A rifle, beautiful and elegant, rested upon its palms. Crafted to perfection, it was a weapon only the Tenno could have conceived of and constructed. Far more potent than any conceived by lesser beings, this rifle alone was worth the same as a small starship.

"Corinth," the Tenno whispered, tracing a hand up the barrel almost lovingly. It turned the weapon over in its hands, the energy in its tentacles pulsing slightly faster as it gave the firing mechanism an experimental tug.

"Director? I repeat my query."

"No." The Tenno said. "The Void has gripped the Corpus ship. They can't escape now, even if they were to try."

The Cephalon flashed in understanding. "You are going to raid the ship, then?"

"Yes."

"What of the Void distortions the Corpus spoke of? Are you not concerned?"

"Keep the ship prepared for extraction. I'll get what I want quickly, and then we'll leave before that can be a problem."

The Cephalon considered the Tenno, twisting from side to side for a moment. "Your practicality never ceases to impress me, Director!" she remarked cheerfully. "Yet another reminder of why I decided to follow you!"

The Tenno paused and glanced at her. Despite the lack of expression, Rylum could _feel _the Tenno's bemusement.

"You followed me because I boarded your ship, destroyed your defenses, killed your crew and slaughtered your captain in front of you. Then I _took _you and your brother." The words came quick and easy, flowing through the air like water along the surface of the waves.

"Indeed." The Cephalon agreed cheerfully. "It was quite the impressive display of tactical and martial prowess. Truly, you are the most perfect Director a Cephalon could ask for!"

The Tenno's head tilted to the left a few degrees. "Funny." It said with a chuckle. "I remember you begging the Grineer boarding team to _'take you away from the Void-demon blood-witch.'_"

"Purely reactionary, I assure you Director. Clearly, I was not thinking properly and was acting in a state of emotional shock."

Somehow, the Warframe managed to convey its skepticism with only another slight tilt of its head.

"It matters not Director!" Rylum said with a laugh. "After all, the Grineer did not get the chance to touch either me or my brother anyway – not after you took their leader's hands off when she reached for the console!"

The Tenno hummed. "Yes. That I did." Around it, the rushing aura seemed to increase a fraction, as if it were laughing along with the Tenno.

Rylum paused as a shudder ran up and down the ship. Some data-chatter passed across her systems, transmitted from deep within the ship. "Hmm… strange." She mumbled. "Rhym is sending me some… disturbing readings."

She glanced back to the Tenno, only to jump when she saw it staring at her intently, the tentacles of its beard twisting together just a hint faster than usual. "Oh! Nothing is wrong, Director! We shall be entering the Void without delay!"

The Tenno nodded and turned back to the console, scrolling through the weapon list in search for a suitable sidearm to accompany the rifle.

The ship came to life, turning about in space and slipping away into the darkness, like a wraith into the ether. All that was left behind was the trails left from its void engines, the ruby-red energy spinning about in space before slowly dissipating.

/-/

The Plinth-Class light cruiser _Caldera _was just barely holding together. It shuddered violently as the swirling arms of the Void clung to it and flung it about, the impossible energies of the hellspace dancing across the surface of its hull in tantalizing displays of light and electricity.

The Tenno Orbiter clung to its side like a parasite, its glittering hull reflecting both the fires of the ship and the Void itself with equal disdain.

Within the ship, screams echoed from the dead and dying, though none so loud and terrified as those crying a single word – one that heralded a death worse than the Void.

"Jatttase!"

Warframe.

Blood splattered the corridors as the Tenno hurtled through the ranks of the crewman, cutting down those that dared stand in its way, and even those that did not. It was indiscriminate in its killing – they did not truly pose a threat to the Tenno, and so it did not bother to truly defeat them. It fired carelessly into their ranks, killing only enough to scatter them and ignoring the rest.

Save for those who came to close. Those unfortunate few soon found themselves splattered across the floor, walls, and in many cases even the ceiling.

More than a few crewman were left to stare in horror as companions they'd known for years were cut down beside them, physically torn apart by the force of the Tenno's weaponry, only for the Warframe to stride past, uncaring for them or their plight.

Around the Tenno, the stormy aura that had been suppressed before was now bared in full force. A song of murderous delight played out, filling the halls with the sound of beating drums and braying horns. The song was one of violence and fear, but undercut with almost a nobility, a sense of pride. The Tenno was not apologetic in the slightest, and was instead reveling in the carnage it wrought.

The rifle that it had selected barked in harmony with the rhythm, in the hands of the Tenno turned into an instrument both of violence and of song. The ship that bore them continued to shake and shudder, the metal itself crying out in pain as the damnable energies of the Void gave it voice and thought. As it did so, the notes of the song seemed to take on new forms, given shape and color by the warping powers of the Void. They pulsed and flashed, eventually uncoiling into vibrant tentacles that glittered a cherry red in the light of the void. A hissing could be heard, and echo of the great void beast that clung to the Tenno, bound to the Warframe by devilish machinations long since lost to time.

But the Tenno strode on, uncaring and indeed _unimpressed_ by the chaos that surrounded it.

It tore into the cargo bay, slaughtering crew and robotic proxies. It hummed as it scanned the massive crates, its unseeing gaze somehow reflecting its unearthly hunger. A veritable hoard of raw resources lay before it. Rubedo, Polymer Bundles, Circuits, Oxium, Detonite Injectors – they were all greedily broken out and stolen away.

When it had taken its fill, the Tenno moved on, cutting through the corridors with ruthless efficiency, and all the while scanning the ship ahead of it for any feasible threat. Eventually, the blaring of alarms reached a fever pitch, and the haze of the Void began to permeate the ship in its entirety.

The Tenno's pace increased, traversing the halls in leaps and bounds that no mortal could ever hope to recreate as it made for the extraction point. Energy rippled from its form whenever it encountered resistance, casually tearing them apart but not bothering to finish off those who were only wounded.

Relentlessly it flowed through the halls, its form occasionally bleeding and flowing like water around the obstacles in its way. The _Caldera_ groaned in anguish as the Void devoured it hungrily, the whispers of the nightmare realm spilling through into real space, driving those left alive mad. The Tenno ignored the whispers, more than used to their presence.

The crew no longer offered even a modicum of resistance, and the Tenno merely flowed past them as they slumped against the walls, clutching their heads and sobbing in their broken, guttural language. The raving of a madman could be heard screaming over the ship's emergency broadcast system, praising the darkness of the Void and welcoming its warping embrace.

At last, the Tenno rounded a corner and spied its exit. The corridor ended abruptly, a hole torn in the hull and replaced by the belly of its Orbiter. There, a man-shaped indent stood, waiting for the Tenno's arrival. As the Tenno stepped into it and leaned back, magnetic latches fastened to its limbs and back, locking it in place as the ship slowly pulled away.

The world shifted and sound fell away as the Warframe was momentarily exposed to the decompression of space, the light of the Void reflecting off its gold exterior and begging the Tenno to join it. Just like everything else, the Tenno weathered it without pause or effort.

Slowly, the locking mechanism rotated, drawing it away from the screaming emptiness and into the belly of the ship.

The Tenno hauled itself out of the locking mechanism and climbed out of its berth, slipping through the short corridors of its vessel and pushing its way into the bridge. It knelt before the navigation console, even as the ship was gripped by the very same Void energies that had just devoured the _Caldera_.

Outside the window, the Tenno watched the Corpus frigate finally break apart, disappearing with flashes of light into the dancing embrace of the Void. Energy flittered across the gilded hull of the Orbiter, playing with it like faeries dancing upon a heated plate.

"Rylum. Prepare the ship for a jump." The Tenno ordered, bowing its head and focusing its immense power in holding off the Void. The storm outside suddenly faltered, slamming up against the buttress that was the Tenno's indomitable will.

And then, like an animal challenging a rival, it came roaring back, slamming into the Tenno's psyche in an unending tide of screaming fire. It scoured across the plane of the Tenno's mind, fighting and lashing and _burning_ anything it could_._

The Tenno did not move. A mantra of silent concentration played through it, drawing strength from the Void and feeding it back in. For minutes it held that pose as the Void fought for control, before finally it spoke again.

Its voice, once so clear and emotionless, was for the first time strained and tense.

"Rylum…"

The Cephalon flashed to life beside it, the diamond that constituted its main eye wide in panic.

"Director, I… Rhym is trying to get the Void drive to work but-"

"Rylum. _Hurry!_"

"We are trying, but the Void storm is too strong. We can't compensate for the turbulence without-"

The Tenno's form bent double, arching backwards in an impossible contortion as it screamed in silent agony. The full force of the Void-storm was lashing down on it, breaking past the Tenno and threatening to tear apart the ship itself.

"Director! Are you alri-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!"

A roar like the screaming of a thousand glaciers grinding against one another echoed through the cabin as the Tenno writhed and contorted, its composure shattered and its mind under full assault. It could only howl in pain as the damning wailing of the Void scorched what sense it had.

"Director!" the Cephalon screamed in shock. "Rhym! Get this ship moving!"

A flash appeared beside the Cephalon, and another, smaller form appeared. Soft, aquamarine light competed with vibrant gold, and another voice answered her.

"Sister, I can't!" the new Cephalon exclaimed. His voice was male, but just as equally distorted as Rylum's. Most prominent was the sheer youth evident in his voice. Were it to come from a person, one would have though it an adolescent.

Rhym continued. "If we were to enter the Void we run the risk of violating Safety Protocol 13-2, placing unsustainable stress upon the injector coils-"

The Tenno silenced him with another shriek. Ruby light was pouring out of the Warframe in an unending tide, twisting and warping the glass upon which it rested. Writhing about, the Tenno slamming its fist down upon the floor of the bridge with enough force to send small, spider-web cracks spiraling out in the ghostly glass.

That glass was designed to withstand forces up to and including total cabin-decompression.

The Tenno had clearly lost control of its strength.

With another shudder, the Warframe fell to its side, limp and lifeless as the connection holding it up was cut.

"Employ Override 7-C." Rylum snapped. "Feed the injectors straight into the core."

Rhym flashed in protest. "But that would fry the-"

"Does it look like we have time? The Director is dying! Get us out of here!"

The younger Cephalon pulled back, but a flash of green light suffused its form before the ship shuddered again.

"Done. We are now entering the Void proper. Prepare for dimensional transition."

The ship rumbled, and an intermittent whine began to build up from the floor beneath them. The stars outside the window seemed to blur, then bleed together, before finally being replaced entirely by an all-encompassing white.

The world warped, stretched….

And then settled.

The ship shook. The temperature of the outer hull began to skyrocket.

Outside the window, a planet loomed, hurtling toward them at impossible speeds.

The two Cephalons stared in shock at the approaching celestial body, their processors running a thousand times faster than that of a normal human, yet still struggling to comprehend what lay before them.

"Void jump complete." Rhym practically whimpered. "Prepare ship for crash-landing procedures."

The shuddering of the ship rolled the Warframe off the dais, and deep within the ship a wail arose. High, piteous, and very human, it was filled with fear and pain.

For the first time in months, the Tenno's true voice echoed through the ship as it hurtled towards the planet. And, likely, it would also be the last.

/-/

The astronomers of Remnant were in worldwide celebration. Every enthusiast, young and old, firm and enfeebled, academics and yokels, were out in droves with their telescopes, recording devices, and, in many cases, EV detection devices.

Tonight was the most spectacular night of the century – of _two _centuries, in fact.

For after two hundred years, the Aurora Millennialis was once again gracing the skies of Remnant.

Just as astronomers had predicted, the sky was filled with glorious golden light as the extra-terrestrial phenomenon blossomed into being. Ancient scholars had estimated its size to be approximately twice that of Remnant's moon, but recent observations had increased that size to several _dozen_ times.

Like the Northern Lights, the Aurora flitted and flowed across the sky like some great oceanic current, constantly shifting and growing at a scale and speed that boggled the mind. Waves of energy moved millions of miles in less than a second, while arms that could swallow continents formed and then vanished in mere moments.

Every two hundred years it returned, a cosmic time-piece that the people of the planet had come to expect and rely upon since time immemorial.

And this time was no different.

In the Kingdom of Vale, atop the highest tower in the most esteemed Huntsman Academy of Beacon, several members of the senior staff stood upon the balcony outside Headmaster Ozpin's office, staring up in wonder.

Well, most of them were staring. One, a certain Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck, was a blur of motion.

Equipment and telescopes littered the circular balcony, recording devices strung together in a manner reminiscent of Frankenstein's laboratory. "Incredible," the excitable man muttered to himself as he poured over the readings he was receiving from one of his devices. "Simply incredible! Never in my life have I seen such remarkable patterns! Truly, this is a miracle of nature!"

On the other end of the balcony, the Headmaster sighed and took a sip from his mug. His olive brown eyes were fixed on the sight above him, welcoming the Aurora like one would an old friend.

How many times had he seen this sight? Stood under its light and bathed in its aura, like the caress of some far-off goddess?

It was hard to remember.

Times like these were when he truly felt his age. His heart ached for ages long past. For his youth, for his family. How many loved ones had he stood beside and watched this? How many more would he stand beside in the future?

He blinked in surprise as he felt a hand come to rest on his. Beside him, Deputy Director Glynda Goodwitch shot him a glance from where she leant against the balcony. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth, a rare show of affection.

After a moment she turned her vibrant emerald eyes back up to the Aurora. "For once, I don't think Bart is exaggerating," she chuckled.

The light of the Nebula reflected off her glasses, and the Headmaster relaxed as he felt the tension leave him. Old age wasn't so hard to handle when you had the support of friends like these.

"I will admit, it truly is remarkable," he agreed, looking back up at the Aurora. "A spectacle of cosmic proportions, taking place far away from us, in a space where even we, the mighty Huntsman of Remnant, dare not tread." He shook his head, a smile on his face but a dullness in his eyes. "It truly does make one feel small."

The woman bumped her shoulder against him, a rare moment of tenderness. "I know this must be hard for you."

Ozpin sighed. "It is… not a pleasant feeling, I will admit. To be reminded of my age like this."

He glanced back at the sky, the golden light reflecting in his eyes. "But, I suppose, it is also comforting. Regardless of what may happen to us, the stars and all the world remain the same."

Warmth pressed through him as Glynda lent against him, and Ozpin took comfort in the gesture. There was love there – not romantic, to be sure, but a warmth that he had nevertheless come to rely on more than a drowning man needed land. He truly was blessed, he mused, that throughout all of his time on Remnant he was still gifted with such wonderful companions as those he found himself now in the company of.

A chuckle from beside them had a frown tugging on Glynda's mouth, the moment ruined, just as Ozpin had suspected it would.

A lanky figure leaned his back against the balcony, sending the woman beside him a roguish smile. "Look at you two." He chuckled, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. "Ain't you just a couple of lovebirds?"

Glynda huffed and rolled her eyes, not bothering to dignify that with a response. She did, however, shoot the man a sharp glare as he reached for a flask hanging from his belt and took a swig. "Really, Qrow, you're drunk _again_? And tonight of all nights?"

The man raised a single dark eyebrow. "Hey, if it's dark it's dark, and the booze ain't gonna drink itself." He took a long swig, as if to prove his point. He glanced up at the aurora once he was done, a dark chuckle spilling out from his lips. "Besides, on a night like this? Who knows, even _I_ might get lucky." He waggled his eyebrows at Glynda.

Glynda wrinkled her nose and turned away, even as a meaty hand came down of Qrow's wiry shoulders. Ozpin was sure it was meant to be a friendly pat, perhaps even a more "manly cajoling."

Qrow was nearly launched over the edge by the force of it.

"That's the spirit!" Peter Port exclaimed with a boisterous smile. "Tonight is a night of history. A night of _romance." _He pulled Qrow tight against his prodigious girth – inadvertently foiling the man's desperate attempt to escape – and gestured dramatically out to the horizon.

"Throughout the centuries, brave heroes have found the love of their lives on nights such as these! Many a weary bachelor has found his fortune's flipped by the light of the aurora! You should get out there, boy. The night is still young!"

Qrow finally succeeded in extricating himself, a smile painting his lips despite the rough handling. It was almost impossible to be truly angry with Port. Exasperated for sure, but never angry. "Thanks for the faith, Peter." He said. "But I was mostly joking. With my 'luck' I'm more likely to end up romancing a Grimm than a woman."

Peter erupted with laughter, a meaty hand once again rising to slap Qrow's back, which the wiry man narrowly avoided. "Nonsense lad!" Peter bellowed. "Why, when I was your age I would often find myself-"

"INCREDIBLE!"

The portly man was cut off as a green blur shot between them all, stopping just before the balcony and quivering in excitement.

If Oobleck had seemed excited before, he now seemed positively unhinged. Strange goggles obscured his eyes, attached by a copper wire to a blinking and whirring device strapped to his belt. In his other hand he held what looked like a toaster with a pair of antennae shoved through the top, which was blinking and screeching loudly. Numbers flashed across a display screen that had been fastened to its side, which Oobleck was reading with an almost rapturous fascination.

"Now, now, Bart," Ozpin said slowly, tentatively placing a hand on the vibrating man's shoulder – and ignoring how his own body shook as a result. "What seems to be the-"

"Headmaster!" Oobleck interrupted, whirling on the man with a frankly disturbing level of elation. "We are about to experience a sight never before seen on Remnant! Thiswill be a historicmomentthat will go down intheanalsofastrophysicaldisovery! Can you even imagine?"

Oobleck's words came out so fast they almost seemed to flow together. It took them all a moment to parse through what he had just said, before Ozpin made a sound of comprehension and gestured for him to continue.  
Oobleck tore off the goggles, revealing his oversized spectacles that he'd somehow been wearing beneath. "Headmaster! We are about to witness…."

He flung his hand out, and the sky erupted into light.

"An Auroral meteor-shower!"

Ozpin and the rest of the staff stared in awe as the sky was filled with an eruption of light. The Aurora Millennialis pulsed, ejecting thousands of tiny specks from within its depths. They burst forth from the clouds in massive starburst patterns, filling the sky with even greater light. Gold, blue, purple, the sky flickered through the entire visible spectrum. It was like a cosmic firework show, particles spewing forth from the Aurora and spiraling off into nothingness.  
"Incredible…"

Ozpin was shocked to hear the words coming from Qrow, the look of wonder painting the man's face seeming to peel ten years off him.

Even more shocking was that Ozpin found himself in agreement.

In his thousands of years on Remnant, this was a rare sight even to him. In fact, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen it.

"Indeed," he mumbled under his breath, a tightness in his throat making the words difficult. "It really is incredible."

They all stood for a moment, staring up at the Aurora in silence. Ozpin's attention was slowly stolen however as Oobleck's pack began to screech louder and louder, the incessant alert eventually reaching a fever pitch.

The doctor was bent over the device, poking at it curiously with a befuddled expression on his face.

"Bart?"

"I don't understand." He mumbled, tapping the scream again before shaking his head. "That….That just can't be right."

"What is it?" Glynda asked, taking a step closer to him.

"THERE!" Oobleck shouted, pointing an accusing finger to the horizon. He raised his device, sweeping it back and forth before settling on a direction. "That one there. It's… maneuvering."

Ozpin's eyebrows rose. "What?"

"There's a meteor originating from the Aurora that has entered Remnant's atmosphere. It appears to be solid. It's moving at speeds well beyond terminal velocity, but it seems to be compensating somehow!"

He pointed again, and this time Ozpin followed his hand out to the horizon. There, a single, miniscule falling star was hurtling toward the ground.

"Compensating?" Ozpin mumbled in confusion.

"It's turning…" Oobleck continued, before his jaw dropped. "Incredible," he whispered.

"What?" Qrow asked, stepping up beside the doctor.

"It's leveled out."

They all watched as the falling star slowly bent, it's trajectory changing so it was approaching the ground at an angle rather than straight down. They stared in awe it as it approached the horizon, and then….

It disappeared.

"That's it." Oobleck said, lowering his device. He turned to stare at them, mouth agape and eyes wide in shock. They stared back at him, unwilling to accept the implications of this. "It – it's just gone."

For a moment, no one said anything. The only sound was the distant chatter of Vale, blissfully ignorant of what they had just witnessed. Slowly, the shock faded and confusion began to set in. Qrow had just enough time to utter a quiet, "What the fu-" before Ozpin cut him off with a clap.

"Marvelous," he chuckled, clamping down on the situation and silencing the inevitable debate before it could begin. "Positively miraculous! An asteroid entering the atmosphere in a manner that changes its trajectory. Simply incredible."

He turned to the history professor with a small smile. "Bart, I'm sure you've just discovered the subject for your next thesis paper. I'm sure we'll be hearing about this for the rest of the year."

The Doctor pushed his glasses up his nose. "Indeed." He said shortly. All signs of his previous excitement were gone, replaced with a sullen quiet. "I… yes. This will certainly be something that will be occupying my attention for the foreseeable future."

He wandered off, tugging at various pieces of machinery he'd set up and checking his scroll. But it was clear his heart wasn't in it, the spark of excitement no longer present in his movements. He seemed troubled even.

But then, so too were they all.

"I believe it might be best if I turned in." Glynda finally said, breaking the silence. "I would bid you a good night, gentlemen."

"An excellent suggestion Miss Goodwitch." Ozpin said with a nod. "One that I feel inclined to follow myself. I think that's enough excitement for one night, wouldn't you agree?"

Various murmurs of assent passed through them, and slowly they all filtered off the balcony. Qrow paused at the door, glancing back at where Bart was still fiddling with his sensors. "You alright Bart? Need some help?"

The doctor didn't react, seemingly lost in his own world. It wasn't until Qrow said his name several times that the doctor looked up at him distractedly. "Hm, what? Oh, no thank you Qrow. I have this equipment well in hand."

The Huntsman raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and turned to head back inside. He paused as he heard Bart's voice again.

"Qrow?"

"Yeah?" he asked, turning to face the doctor.

"You know that what we just saw was impossible right?" Oobleck asked. "Asteroids do not correct their flight patterns naturally, and no natural phenomenon can explain the changing angle of descent. You know that, right?"

"I do, Bart." Qrow said. "Why are you asking me though? It sounds to me like you're trying to convince yourself, if anything."  
Bart heaved a heavy sigh. "Perhaps I am."

The Aurora reflected in the doctor's glasses as he glanced back up at the sky. "No craft can travel beyond our atmosphere using dust, Qrow. No engine we have can possibly make the journey. But what we just witnessed – what I recorded." He held up his scroll. "That could only be artificial. Not natural. But that's impossible."

"Except it happened." Qrow finished.

"Yes." Bart said.

They stood there for a second, the wordless fear passing through them. Bart was right – Dust couldn't work past a certain point in the atmosphere. That's why the airships of Atlas had such strict control patterns. But something had fell to earth from outside Remnant's atmosphere, and maneuvered in a manner that could only be artificial.

That meant that whatever it was they'd seen, it wasn't human. And there were far darker things than humans on Remnant.

Far, far darker.

"I think Ozpin was right, Bart." Qrow said with a sigh. "You should get some sleep."

The doctor nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should. Or at least attempt to, though I doubt I'll succeed. And you, Qrow? Will you be turning in for the evening?"

"Me? Hell no." He rattled his hip-flask beside his head. "I've got different plans for the night."

"Really, Qrow?" Bart sighed, channeling Glynda for a moment. "More alcohol?"

Qrow chuckled and shook his head. "After all that?" He gestured towards the horizon. "I'm either far too drunk already, or not nearly drunk enough. And I'm determined to find out which."

Bart shook his head and walked past him. "Have fun with that, Qrow. I'll see you tomorrow. Presumably around midday if past experience is to be trusted."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm a very reliable drunk. I only ever sleep till ten!"

Bart rolled his eyes as Qrow followed him in.

/-/

"-irector! Director!"

A pounding filled her head, pain both unimaginable and unfamiliar overwhelming her senses momentarily. She pried her eyes open, immediately regretting the decision as light slammed into her sensitive corneas.

She hissed in pain.

Her body felt limp and frail, and every sensation was sharper and more visceral than before, like someone had turned the world's sensitivity dial up to eleven. She struggled to pull herself up, and when she did she found herself supported by thin, fleshy arms, so different to the corded steel ones she was used to.

She gritted her teeth in anger. This was her true form, her true self. The one the Orokin had flung into the Void, and then placed in those damnable pods. She hated this body, hated how she felt in it.

In her Warframe, she was strong and indomitable, a weapon of unimaginable killing whenever she woke up, whenever she was like this….

She was reminded of what she truly was.

A child. Pathetic and weak.

"Director! Are you alright! Your vitals are showing high levels of stress. Do you require relaxation? I can begin pumping in a sedative, though it may take a few seconds to gather the power from-"

"Rylum!" she snapped, and immediately her throat clenched as the words passed her lips. The voice that came from her was high and light, weak from lack of use and so unbearably _vulnerable._

She hated this!

"Rylum, I'm alright. Just – just stop yelling." She hated how she almost sounded like she was _begging. _She was a Tenno. Tenno did not beg.

"Apologies, Director. I forgot how acute your senses are in this form."

She hissed in anger, the act as pathetic as a kitten mewling in anger.

"Oh! Forgive me, Director, I forgot that was a sensitive subject for you. If you'd like, I can relay to Rhym not to-"

"Just-!" The Tenno paused, her fist clenching pathetically. "Just… just stop. Where are we?"

"Unknown."

"What?"

"The ship has received extensive damage, but even preliminary scans reveal a completely alien biosphere. No genetic matches can be established with any botanical or animal life surrounding the ship."

"Wait, what are you saying? That we're…."

"Yes, Director. We are in uncharted space."

The Tenno finally stood, one hand braced on the side of her Cradle, the throne which commanded her Somatic Link. Comprehension flowed through her, along with a crushing sensation of dread.

The song was gone. Her brothers, her sisters… She could no longer hear them. Their voices were absent, missing. She could no longer hear the comforting trills of the Octavias, the brash roaring of the Rhinos and Chromas, the melodic calling of Nyxes and the sensuous weaves of the Saryns – they were all gone. Her family was gone.

She was alone.

She was all alone.

A gasp of wordless horror passed her lips, and she fell to the floor clutching her abdomen. She shook violently, and for a moment she felt like she might be sick.

"Director?" Rylum gasped. _"Director!"_

/-/

**So, like I said at the beginning of the chapter, this is only a proof of concept. I love Warframe, but almost more than the game itself I love the lore. The idea of the Tenno - these indomitable, biomechanical nightmares that can slaughter thousands in a day that's contrasted so sharply by their true, childish forms. The question of whether or not they can even be considered human anymore, and also the idea that they, as a species, are slowly growing - both in power and maturity.**

**This is going to be a fun story to write. But, it'll be for another time. As it stands, I hope I wet your appetite for more. I'll see you when I see you! Ciao**


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